


Bright- Ron and Hermione Drabbles

by legallyblack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon, F/M, Happy, Sad, Short, oneshots, romione
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:54:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 10,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29623062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legallyblack/pseuds/legallyblack
Summary: Just like the title says, this is a bunch of short drabbles about our favorite two sidekicks! While they're not all Romione-centered, I can guarantee you a vast majority of them are going to be. It's WIP, so please please please comment Oneshot suggestions for the drabbles!(not in chronological order)Constantly updating
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 1
Kudos: 34





	1. Books

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> September of 1991

She's shivering, and she can't tell whether it's out of excitement or fear. The castle is _huge_ , and while she'd spent countless hours reading the Wizarding history books, her classmates keep using words and phrases she simply can't understand. _That's not ok_ , she thinks. She needs to understand everything.

She makes it a point to seek out the library, and once she does, she can't believe her eyes.

It's...it's...breathtaking. 

Bigger than any library she'd ever been to, certainly so the small public library she'd visit with her parents on weekends back home.

Some of the nerves she's felt fade away. This is simple. These are books. They're in English and she can read them.

She can work with this.


	2. Time to Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August 1991

He feels bad leaving Ginny behind.

She's his best friend, but Hogwarts is waiting for him, and it's time for the youngest Weasley boy to go to school.

"Make sure to write me, ok?"

"Sure thing, Gin."

3 months later and he's too busy with his new best friend to write home.


	3. Can't Place It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> December of 1994, the morning after the Yule Ball

"I simply don't understand why you had to be such an arse about it."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, cut it out, Ronald. Why couldn't you just be happy for me? I _told_ you I had a date, it's not my fault you didn't believe me!"

"It's not like you're particularly—talkative—when it comes to guys! At least other than Harry and I."

"And why is it your business if I talk to boys or not?"

"I-er, you know what? Forget it. I'm sorry I was such an 'arse'. See you at lunch, Hermione."

She watches him walk out of the portrait hole, confusion written all over her face. That had to have been the shortest argument they'd ever had. She can't place her finger on why.


	4. She's Drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May 2000

She's inconceivably drunk.

There's an empty bottle of Firewhiskey next to her on the couch and she's currently trying to seduce her boyfriend.

"Come on, Ronnnnny. Let's g-get crazy. Shhhh my parents aren't home, so I won't tell if you don't."

"Mione, your parents live two hours away. This is _my_ apartment." He's trying to stay serious but is failing miserably.

She, on the other hand, is acting as though this information is very new to her. "Waiiiit what? Y-your apartment? But why am, am I here all the time then?"

"Ah, you've got me stumped." He laughs.

"I don't u-understand, Ron! You drank the s-same amouuunt as, as me!"

"Again, so insightful of you." He ruffles her hair, pulling her closer into him.

"So, loverboyyyy, what do you say about—"

She whispers the last word.

"—seeeeeeeex?"

"I think you're a little too far gone for that, love."

Tears fill her eyes. "B-but, y-you said _love_! You, you love me! A-and we may never g-get the chance again!"

"That's right, I do love you, but we shag all the time!" He says matter of factly. 

Her eyes widen. "We doooo?" She whispers.

He nods coyly. "Yep. In fact, we did it yesterday."

Her eyes widen further. "We di-did?"

"Yep. So we won't be missing anything if nothing happens tonight, which it _won't_ because you're gonna wake up with a wicked hangover."

"You're no fun," she murmurs, crossing her arms.

"Well, that's rich coming from you."

She looks offended. "How...h-how dare y-you! I'm going, going to bed...WITHOUT you, Ronnn!"

She wobbles, more than walks, to his bedroom. He sighs, telling himself that an angry drunk Hermione was worse than a cute, cuddly drunk Hermione. 

He doesn't even need to move, however, because no more than 10 seconds later, she appears, sheepish in the doorway.

"What's wrong now, Hermione?"

She groans, evidently frustrated. In her drunken state, it comes off more like an exaggerated flail.

"Well, a-aren't you coming?"

He almost laughs, but he sees the earnest look on her face and his heart melts. God, he loves her. More than she'll ever know. And as he walks over to embrace his girlfriend tightly, he mentally promises that he'll spend his entire life trying to prove to her how much he loves her.

All was well.


	5. A Real Adult

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> July 1998

Ginny walks into the kitchen, tears in her eyes. “He’s not coming out.”

Ron and Hermione exchange a glance. She sighs. She’d had a feeling that this would happen. She reaches over to where Ginny is standing and squeezes her hand. 

“Let Ron and I talk to him?”

They make their way to Ron’s bedroom, unsurprisingly locked. Ron tries a simple unlocking charm, to no avail. “Should have known the blighter would’ve mastered the art of locking doors,” he sighs. Hermione knocks softly on the door. “Harry? We know you’re in there.” No response. Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of the door unlocking.

She shoots a furtive look at Ron, who shrugs, before slowly opening the door to the dark room. They can just make out the silhouette of their best friend, perched with his back facing them, staring out the window. Ron places a hand on his shoulder. “You ok, mate?” Harry scoffs, turning the other way. “No, actually I’m not, thanks for asking.” Ron looks hurt, but not surprised. Hermione tries. “We just wanted to say Happy Birthday, Harry. Eighteen years old, a full adult!”   
Harry scoffs again, finally turning to face them. 

“Right, a real adult. A real effing adult with real effing adult problems because Merlin knows I haven’t had enough of  _ those _ in my life. In fact, what’s the point of making such a big deal about me turning eighteen wh-when, when all those p-people d-died because of-”

He’s breaking down, Hermione can tell. She knows the feeling all too well. Before he can completely lose it both she and Ron are at his side. This boy, this  _ man _ has been through so damn much. Everyone knows it. But not everyone knows Harry. And Hermione realizes that maybe sending Ginny to be his first “Happy Birthday” of the day, despite their growing relationship, wasn’t the right idea.

There are only two people in the world who know Harry enough to know that the prospect of turning eighteen is even scarier than not. That he’d lived so much of his childhood,  _ all _ of it, in fact, just trying to  _ survive _ in the moment. And now, with the war over as far as they know, it scares him. He doesn’t need to even say it.   
  


And so the three of them sit there in silence, three friends, an unbreakable family, the last of which entering adulthood. They’re no longer  _ kids _ , and despite everything they went through when they were, they get to start afresh. And that’s beautiful. 


	6. Numbness is Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> August 1997

It’s too much. It’s all too much.

The three of them are cooped up in Grimmauld Place and she can’t shake the feeling that every move is being watched. Like every plan, every hour is some sort of test to see whether she personally can be smart enough to save the world.

She knows she isn’t. And the war isn’t even about her. It’s about Harry, Merlin only knows what  _ he _ must be feeling.

And then there’s Ron. He’s left his entire family behind, not knowing whether or not they’re safe at any given moment. At least she knows her parents are safe.

_ For now. _

She pushes down the worry. There can be  _ no _ worry. Not now, not until they win.

And they better win.

Because she doesn’t know who she is without the boy who lived, and his ginger best friend, who against her better judgment is starting to become more than that.

She’s fairly certain that the only way for her to survive is to win. There’s no future for her if Voldemort gets his way. And while normally that would terrify her, lately the intrusive thoughts in her head leave her feeling  _ numb. _

And that’s scarier than death.


	7. Hopes and Wishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> December 1996

“Godric, Hermione, you look  _ hot _ !”

She rolls her eyes, tossing hair care products into the rubbish. “Ginny, I don’t want to look hot. I don’t even want to go.”

“It’s your fault you asked Cormac. Not that I have to ask why you did it. If it makes you feel any better, Ron would  _ not _ stop talking about it after lunch. Frankly, it was sort of annoying, but with the way he’s been acting lately, the idiot deserves to be knocked a peg down.”

A blush spreads across Hermione’s cheeks. “He’s not an  _ idiot _ ”, she murmurs. It’s Ginny’s turn to roll her eyes. “Remind me again why you two aren’t married?”

“Can’t get married if only one person is interested.”

She immediately regrets saying it. Ginny looks up, surprise etched on her face. “Wow, I’ve never heard you say it out loud before.”

“Yes, well don’t get used to it. Asking Cormac was a huge mistake, but after tonight, I’m giving up on Ron.”

Ginny blocks the doorway, red hair alive with intent. “Hell no, Hermione. Weren’t  _ you _ the one who told me to never give up on Harry? Why on earth would I let you give up on my brother?”

“Ginny he doesn’t like—”

“Bull. Shit. I see the way he looks at you when he’s not sucking Lavender’s face. It makes me want to vomit, but it’s love, I know.”

Hermione’s heart constricts painfully. She’s spent too much of this year pining over one of her best friends, only for it to leave her in tears nearly every day.

“Ron doesn’t love me, Ginny. He barely even likes me. We haven’t spoken to each other in weeks, I’ve made sure of that. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a Slug Club Ball to attend. With  _ Cormac Mclaggen. _ It would do me some good to...to branch out.”

Ginny gives her a pitying look. “You can branch out all you want, Hermione. But just like I know that even after Michael  _ and _ Dean, that Harry’s the one for me, you’ll realize that Ron’s the one for you.”

Hermione smiles. She hopes so.  _ Merlin, she hopes so. _


	8. Nothing Without Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> December 2002  
> (If you can't tell this is a parallel to the last chapter!)

"Ginny, I can't do this."

"You better not be walking out on my brother, Hermione."

"Oh shut up I'm not walking out, I just—"

"I know. Just, just turn around and look at yourself."

So she does.

And staring back at her is a woman wearing a _gorgeous_ yet simple wedding gown. She looks down at her hand and sees the silver ring on her finger. 

Most people would say that 23 is too young to get married, but with them it's different. First off, she's known him for almost 12 years, and she's loved him for at least 9 of those. Second, the war brought a new sense of purpose to her life. One that didn't put all her worth into books and exams, but rather the people she loved. 

And just as Ron had explained when he proposed, there wasn't a doubt in either of their minds that they were meant for each other.

"I look...amazing."

Ginny smiles, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. "You always do. Now stop worrying and go get married."

Right. Marriage. And then what? A house? Kids? They're both quickly climbing the ranks in their respective careers, and while she knows that Ron would never ask her to leave her job to take care of domestic issues, she can't help but wonder what this means for her future.

 _But come on,_ she thinks. 

_You're future has no meaning if he's not in it._

And then she knows. It doesn't matter what her future holds as long as Ron's right there to help her through it.

And it's this thought that she holds as she makes her way down to the banquet hall.


	9. Almost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> November 1996

She sees Lavender kiss him and she almost laughs.

Almost.

Because the first thing that comes to her mind is that Ron will be grossed out and push her off, before going to find Harry and Hermione and complain about it.

She almost laughs.

But then he grips Lavender back equally as tight, the two of them swaying on the spot locked in an intense kiss, and she shatters.

Because this isn't supposed to happen. It's _not_ supposed to happen. Ron is supposed to confess his feelings for _her_ , and they're supposed to get over their teenage awkwardness and be together and—

She becomes all too aware of how vulnerable she looks. Standing there, in the middle of the common room, eyes wide in horror and heartbreak at the sight in front of her. Sure, she kissed Krum, but this is different. This is a proper _snog_ , and Ron's snogging Lavender and not her.

And she shatters.

She knows she should be happy for them. After all, isn't that what best friends are for?

_Friend._

That's all she is to him, isn't it? Just a friend. Just a homework helper, Harry's "other" friend, just that. Nothing more, nothing less. And in all of her 16 years, she doesn't think she's ever felt so _shattered._

Because they almost could have been. She almost got over herself and asked him. She _had,_ just a few days ago. To the Slug Club Ball. They'd almost gone together.

She turns on her heel, fleeing out the door.

She _almost_ makes it out without sobbing.


	10. Un-Smart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summer of 1995

The only time she ever feels inferior is during Order Meetings. 

Then again, she's not technically _allowed_ in Order Meetings, but she, Ron, and the twins listen in on them anyway. 

Afterward, she'll try to catch Madeye or Kingsley or even Lupin before they leave Grimmauld Place, and tell them about a new strategy that she's thought of. Every time, they shut her down.

She knows she's young. She's only 15. But she also knows that she's smart. And that Harry would want someone in his corner while he's stuck at the Dursleys.

Her parents never made her feel dumb. In fact, they were the two people who praised her intelligence the most.

She misses them, and can't help but feel guilty for leaving them just 2 weeks into the Summer holiday to join the Weasleys.

She's unintentionally driving a wedge between her and her parents. She doesn't know why.

She has a feeling that soon she will.


	11. Dumb Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January 1997

"Come on, Hermione, talk to me."

"Go away, Ron."

"It's been _months_ of us acting like this."

"Three, if I recall correctly."

"Does this have something to do with Lavender?"

"Oh, look, you're not as daft as I thought you were, what a surprise."

"What's your issue? You cry and huff about the way I 'treat' you, but then you go and pull the same crap on me! How is that fair?"

"Ok, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called you daft."

"Apology accepted. And...Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we be friends again?"

She pauses. She so desperately does. She misses him. But she can't do this. Not when she has to walk into the Common Room after every meal and see them snogging on the couch.

She looks up at him, his eyes so hopeful, and her heart breaks all over again. Because she knows he really does want to be her friend again. But she's Hermione Granger, and she lacks, for a better word, _tact_. So instead of saying what she really means, she deflects.

"What a dumb question. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got Charms essays to write."


	12. Leaving Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May 1999

“You sure you don’t want to stay for the school memorial? Mum really wants to see you.” Hermione sighs, turning her head to where Ginny stands in the doorway. 

“I finished all of my NEWT exams early, Gin. There’s no reason for me to stay.” Never one to beat around the bush, Ginny closes the door behind her, walking towards her friend. “Right, but I can think of quite a few reasons why you might _not_ want to stay, Hermione.”

Hermione stops packing and puts down the robes she's holding. “Harry and Ron are graduating from Auror Academy at noon. We’re going to lunch after, which, by the way, Harry really wants you to attend.” Ginny crosses her arms. “And I’ll tell you what I told him when he owled yesterday. This memorial is important. It’s been a year since the battle. Since the war ended. I might be dating him, but even he knows how much it means to the seventh years who stayed. How much it _should_ mean to you too—”

  
  


“You think I don’t know how important it is?” Hermione snaps, glaring at Ginny. She immediately apologizes, regret forming from her outburst.. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just—memories. Too many of them. I’d much rather spend today celebrating my two best friends who got through it with me than be reminded of everything we lost last year.” Ginny’s face softens. Sitting down next to Hermione, she places a gentle hand on her knee. “I know, I’m sorry too. Shouldn’t have pushed it. Tell the boys I’ll be at their flat as soon as the memorial’s over, ok?” Hermione gives Ginny a grateful smile. When the red-headed girl leaves the dorm room, she resumes her packing.

While most fellow students would have assumed that she’d completed her NEWT exams a month and a half early simply due to her infamous study habits, the truth was, she was ready to leave Hogwarts. The past eight months spent completing her seventh year had been great, but it wasn’t the same. Not without Harry and Ron. She’d underestimated just how hard it would be to come back to school and act so...normal. As if she hadn’t spent the previous year on the run, fighting hiding from the evilest wizard of all time. As if she hadn’t been brutally tortured for information because of her blood, or fought in a bloody war. 

It had been nice to go back, and she still had Ginny for company. But she can't help but feel out of place. Not to mention she's away from Ron, whom she’d finally gotten together with shortly after the battle. Because of her unusual circumstances, Headmistress McGonagall had allowed her to leave the castle through portkey once a month for a few hours so that she could spend time with her friends. But Harry and Ron’s increasingly tough Auror schedule didn’t allow much flexibility for him to see her. In fact, she hadn’t seen Ron in person since March. She’d come to learn of their graduation date through the many letters he’d sent her.

Today Hogwarts was having a memorial event on the one-year anniversary of the battle. It was specifically to honor the students who had fought and lost their lives. The Ministry was also having an anniversary memorial, one to honor the participants of the second wizarding war in general, which inherently, heavily included Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They were to attend the service after the Auror graduation ceremony. Hermione knows that Harry can't bear to attend the Hogwarts memorial. She doesn't really think she could either. She doesn't want to push Harry—she and Ron know more than anyone how long it had taken for him to set aside the guilt he felt because of everyone who lost their lives. 

Hermione finally finishes packing her trunk, taking one last look at her dorm room. For 7 years she’d slept here, and even when she was lying on a cold tent bed, she’d yearned for the comfort of her dorm. It was the end of an era. A long one that mostly brought stress, but abundant happiness and memories nonetheless. She’d miss it, but things had changed. She was 19, and she had her whole life in front of her, something that couldn’t have been guaranteed a year ago. It was time to say goodbye to the school that had given her so much.


	13. Endless Camp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October 1997

The leaves crunch under her boots as she walks through the forest. While silence usually frightens her, it's a welcome escape after months of spending every day with the boys in the tent. If she squints over the tops of the trees, she can see the hillside market, which happened to be exactly where she's going.

While Ron’s complaints about their lack of food irked her to her core, she had to agree with him at this point; they needed food. Real food. That morning had marked the 5th consecutive day of nothing but fishbone soup and random bushel nuts. After violently throwing up into the toilet after breakfast, Hermione decided that enough was enough. Harry and Ron agreed fervently. So, grabbing her wand and coat, she’d set out to find the nearest market. Ron almost hadn’t let her go (not that she would let him boss her around, but she’d come to learn that his overprotectiveness of her wasn't possessive, it was out of fear).

She’d left the tent nearly an hour ago, not that she minded the walk.

And as she walks, she wonders if there was ever a time when her world wasn't an endless row of trees.


	14. Leaving Hogwarts pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May 1999

Walking through the halls felt strange. Morning classes were still in session, so there weren’t many students wandering the halls. The actual school year wouldn’t be ending until mid-June. She made sure to take in every portrait and statue, including the countless ones that had been added during the castle’s reconstruction. She finally found herself at McGonagall's office. After telling the Griffin statue the password (“biscuits”), she lugged her trunk up the winding stairs.

She didn’t even have time to knock on the door before it was swung open and she was suddenly enveloped in the very familiar scent of parchment and grass—

“Ron!” She squeaked, gripping him equally as tight. His hair had obviously been cut since the last time she’d seen him, but he still had his signature dopey smile, which, combined with his very schoolboy-looking haircut, reminded her very much of the Ron she’d gone to school with. 

She stared in shock. She hadn’t been expecting him. “I thought I was meeting you at the Auror building?” He smiled, still holding her. “Well, I thought since we had a few hours before we were needed for the ceremony, I’d come to surprise my girl on her last day at Hogwarts!” She blushed; Ron referring to her as “his girl” would never fail to surprise her, not that she minded. She breathed in his scent, whispering into his shirt, “I missed you. So much.” 

“I missed you too, Mione. You ready to go?” He kissed her, pulling her further against him.

There was the sound of a throat clearing, and they both snapped apart. “Oh, professor ! I didn’t realize you were here.” she greeted.

McGonagall rolled her eyes. “Right, well seeing as this happens to be my office, I’d appreciate if Mr. Weasley could hold off on the public display of affection until  _ after _ I say my goodbyes to Ms. Granger.”

Ron sighed, reluctantly letting Hermione go. 

She walked over to where McGonagall was standing by her desk. “Well, Professor, I guess this is goodbye for now?” McGonagall smiled sadly. “I suppose it is. I can never thank you enough for all the work you’ve done helping rebuild the school these past few months, and everything you three have done in the 8 years you’ve been Hogwarts students.” Hermione reached out and hugged her favorite teacher tightly. “Thank you for everything as well.” McGonagall wiped away the tears that were forming in her eyes. “I hear you’re going to be starting work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? They’ll be lucky to have you.” Hermione nodded. “I hope so.” 

Ron grabbed her free hand, leading her to the fireplace. “They’ll be expecting us, Hermione.” She nodded, giving one last smile to Mcgonagall, who waved her hand as if to say, “go ahead”.

Ron took a handful of green Floo powder, tossing it in and saying clearly, “Level two, Ministry of Magic”. With a swirl of flames, they were off.


	15. Losing Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> March 1998

"I'm going to ask you one more time, Mudblood...

HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY VAULT?"

_The monster on top of her isn't listening_ , she thinks. She doesn't know about a vault. They didn't break into a vault. Bellatrix isn't listening.

She isn't listening, she isn't listening.

She shakes her head weakly and tries to get the words out, to convince her captor that she's telling the truth, but it comes out as a strangled sob.

And then there's just pain.

Pure, angry pain.

The Cruciatus rips through her like a wildfire. It _feels_ like wildfire. Every limb, every muscle, every nerve, on fire.

In the back of her tortured mind, she sees her father, tucking her into bed, and reading her favorite story to her.

"The bullies at school are just that, Hermione. Bullies. Don't ever feel bad for being who you are."

She was a muggle. A filthy, useless muggle. 

A mudblood.

That's who she is.

She doesn't think she'll ever see her parents again.


	16. Lost Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> March 1998

The last thing she sees before she passes out completely is Harry and Ron running up from the cellar.

 _Thank Merlin,_ she thinks before succumbing to the dark.

She's not sure if she even knows who she is. All she knows is that her entire body aches, and her arm burns. 

Her throat is raw from screaming. Her nails bleed from when she scratched the floor in desperation. There are cuts on just about every inch of the surface of her body.

But here, in this floating darkness? She feels slightly better. On the outskirts of her consciousness, she can hear the sounds of fighting. Spells.

She doesn't want to fight anymore.

As soon as the bliss had started, it ends, as she's jerked back to reality. The ever-familiar feeling of a knife being pressed to her throat becomes known to her. Using the last bit of strength she has, she opens her eyes a tiny bit. She wants to see _him_ before she dies. She wants to see Ron. She _is_ going to die, right? Because even she can't fathom how they're supposed to get out of this.

He looks scared. More scared than she's ever seen him. It scares her more. Is there something she's missing? She'd heard wild screaming just a few minutes ago.

Oh.

It's been her. She'd been the one screaming. 

She thinks he screamed too. Her name. She inwardly smiles at that. She wants to call out to him, to let him know that it's not his fault and that she loves him. 

She almost tries to, but there's a loud crack and suddenly she's buried under something extremely heavy.

Darkness takes her once more.


	17. Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next 4-5 chapters/drabbles will detail the Battle of the 7 Potters from Hermione's POV
> 
> July 1997

To the Dentistry District of Melbourne,

I am Hannah Gertrude, a dentist in the UK. I was recently informed of a new addition to Dentistry. A Mr. Wendell and Mrs. Monica Wilkins? They were students in my training class. I would like to formally request their yearly schedule through the administration office? That way I can keep an eye on their availability. 

Thanks, Hannah Gertrude.

“Hannah Gertrude? Blimey, that’s an interesting name.” Ron smirked, looking over Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione laughed. “Well, I can’t go right out and say my real name, can I? That would defeat the entire purpose.” She looked at the letter she had just written out, took a deep breath, and sealed it. Ron took the envelope and tied it to Pigwidgeon. “I reckon it’ll reach Australia by next week, eh? Then you can know what your parents are up to.” He sat down at the dining room table and looked at Hermione. “Hey, you’re ok right? I promise they’ll be ok, I know it.” Hermione looked up, smiling. “I know. Still, I never thought I would be writing my parents under an alias.” Ron stood up and patted her hand. “I’m going to make some tea, want some?” Hermione nodded her head. “Thanks.”

Hermione looked outside the window. It had been 10 days since she’d reached the burrow after erasing her parents’ memories. She had been an embarrassing wreck for the first 3 days, but she was starting to move past it. She suspected a huge part of it had to be the second family she was staying with under the rickety, tall roof. Ron had been unnaturally caring, not that Hermione was complaining. As he hummed in the kitchen, grabbing various ingredients for the tea, Hermione couldn’t help but notice how tall he had become. He’d always been tall compared to her and Harry, but now it was even more noticeable. The sun streamed through the curtains, lighting up the cozy kitchen. Hermione felt peace in the quiet mornings here at the Burrow. It was quite relaxing but slightly unnerving to see everyone move about so aimlessly as if there wasn’t a war brewing.

It as though they were all hiding from the truth.


	18. Left Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> July 1997

“Hermione, do you think Harry will be back in time for Christmas?” Hermione’s face shot up. “How d’you-” Ginny scoffed. “Oh come on, I know you three are planning on going somewhere. I’ve never seen you or Ron go so long without an argument, you did the whole - you know - thing with your...parents, and most obviously, your Hogwarts letters haven’t come in yet. You would have gotten your perfect notification a week ago. I’m not stupid Hermione.” She finished talking. Hermione was stunned. To be fair, they had never explicitly made a pact that they couldn’t tell anyone they were going somewhere. Ginny had spoken again. “So now that we’ve gotten the Hogwash out of the way, tell me, do you think he’ll be home by Christmas?” Hermione paused. She didn’t know how long the whole thing would take, but she had a sinking feeling it would take more than 6 months. ”I don’t know, Gin. I really wish I did. Maybe you- should talk to Harry when he gets here. It’s less than a week!” Ginny didn’t respond. Hermione let out a sigh of relief, glad she had stopped the conversation. She trusted Ginny, but she also didn’t want to let too much of her plan slip. 

"I'm just tired of being left out" Ginny whispered. Hermione's heart dropped. She knew the feeling.

"I know, but this is bigger than all of us, I'm sure you know that too."

She felt so damn patronizing, she hated it. Ginny didn't care if there was a war brewing. She just wanted to be with them, with Harry.

Hermione hoped, more than anything, that they'd live to see them reunite.


	19. Leaving "Home"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> July 1997

Hermione woke up in the dark. Checking the clock in Ginny’s room, she saw the small blinking light. 5:36. Darn. Being an early riser in Hogwarts, Hermione knew that once she had woken up she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Slowly, she got out of bed and put on a coat to shield the morning chill. As she made her way downstairs, she was hit with the familiar smell of muffins. Sure enough, as she rounded the corner into the kitchen, she saw Mrs. Weasley running around the kitchen, grabbing things left and right. She looked up when she noticed Hermione. “Oh! Hermione dear. Why are you up so early? Do you need anything?” Hermione smiled and shook her head. “No thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I just woke up earlier than usual. DO you-er — need help with—?” Molly finally stopped pacing and grabbed a fresh muffin from the tray, thrusting it into Hermione’s hands. “Try it. New recipe, my aunt’s. I think I might make them for Fleur and her family when they arrive.” Hermione kindly bit into the warm muffin, instantly hit with tasty goodness. “Mm! These are delicious!” Mrs. Weasley beamed. “Alright then, sit down, sit down. Tea?” Hermione moved to the kettle. “Don’t bother, I can make it myself!” As she poured the tea for her and Molly, she suddenly remembered. “Oh! Harry! Today’s the day we’re getting him!” Mrs. Weasley’s soft smile suddenly turned sour. 

“Oh. Yes, you’re right. The order should be here around 4 this evening to get ready to go. All the way to Surrey! Damn Arthur and his adventure, living vicariously through you kids. You and Ron should NOT be going. It’s absurd!” Hermione quickly finished pouring the tea and walked over to Mrs. Weasley, patting her gently by the arm. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Weasley! Ron and I both know what we signed up for. We’ll be safe!” But Mrs. Weasley didn’t look convinced. Before she could get herself into a bigger hole, she quickly went back upstairs to write Harry a birthday card.

A few hours of moping around later, Mr. Weasley called for the kids to come down. Ginny, who was sitting on her bed next to Hermione, turned her head towards the sound with a look of contempt. Hermione knew that Ginny was resentful at the fact that both of her parents refused to let her go on Harry’s retrieval mission. Just last night, in a last-ditch effort to be included, she had confronted Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at the dinner table, tearfully pointing out that she was no help to anyone by always staying at home. Mrs. Weasley had fired back that she wasn’t putting any more of her children in unnecessary danger, looking pointedly at Ron, from whom she was still unsuccessful in gaining any information about their plans.

“Hermione, Ron! Hurry now, we don’t have all day!” They heard Mr. Weasley calling them again, his voice slightly more irritated than before. Hermione sighed and made to get off the bed, grabbing her wand and a jean jacket. “Get Harry back safe, ok?” Ginny called meekly from her spot. Hermione gave her an assured look, before hurrying down the stairs and into the living room, where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Fleur, the twins, and Ron were standing, looking anxious. Upon Hermione’s arrival, Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and checked his watch. “Righty oh, then. The rest of the order be here in fifteen minutes, then we’ll be off. Hermione, I take it you’re not particularly fond of brooms?—”

Hermione shot a dirty look at Ron, who turned his smirking face back on his father.

“—That’s a quick enough fix. You’ll go on Threshal with Kingsley. Sounds good?” 

Hermione nodded, feigning excitement. She was going to be riding with _Kingsley Shacklebolt,_ one of the most powerful Aurors of all time. The nerves that had been plaguing her eased slightly at this reassurance. 

…

If Hermione had been asked 2 years ago how she felt about riding over the streets of London on a broomstick, with her arms around one Ronald Weasley, she would have blushed and called it a dream come true. Now, it was a nerve-wracking nightmare. She’d be partaking in the actual mission on Threshal, but the ride to the Dursleys house was much more casual, and Ron had offered much too enthusiastically to be her chauffeur there. 

“Ron, slow down! Oh, Merlin, I’m going to be sick.” 

“Haha! What do you mean, Hermione, this is amazing!”

She squealed as he made a particularly steep dip, holding him tighter still. Stealing a glance at her surroundings, Hermione couldn’t help but marvel at how majestic the evening skyline looked at this height. She looked right, watching as Fred and George zoomed past them on their own brooms, laughing gallantly. “ _Gits_ ,” Ron muttered under his breath. Hermione laughed brightly, admiring the view in an attempt to distract her churning stomach.


	20. Kick Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> July 1997

“Good luck, everyone,” shouted Moody. “See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One . . . two . . . THREE.”

The Threshal jerked as Kingsley kicked into the sky, Hermione leaned back as she watched the house disappear further and further until it was a small speck. Turning back forward, her heart stopped as she realized what was in front of them. Out of nowhere, out of nothing, they were surrounded. At least thirty hooded figures, suspended in midair, formed a vast circle in the midst of which the Order members had risen, oblivious —

Hermione almost screamed in fear, before she realized that she was supposed to be Harry and promptly shut her mouth. “Kingsley! KINGSLEY! We’re surrounded!” She yelled over the roar of the air. Before she knew what was happening, the sky erupted in bright lights. If she were anywhere else she would have mistaken them for fireworks, but she quickly realized that they were being shot at with _curses_.

“Duck!” Kingsley yelled as Hermione threw herself down on the back of the Threshal, mind whirring. _Think, Hermione, think!_ Fumbling for her wand, she managed to extract it from her jacket pocket, mentally cursing herself for not having it out earlier. Without thinking, she quickly cast a shield charm at the Death Eaters, causing a large chunk of them to be pushed back by some invisible force. A large one zoomed forward on their broom, aiming his wand directly at her. Before he could shoot, an idea occurred to her. “STUPEY!” She shouted, watching as the Death Eater was knocked off their broom. “Wingardium Leviosa!” She pointed skillfully, using the now limp body as a bracket, colliding his body into about six other Death Eaters with a sharp flick of her wand. 

“Nice!” Yelled Kingsley from the front, who was now simultaneously dueling and steering the Threshal all at once. They weren’t in the clear, however, because a dozen more cloaked figures were closing in on them. A green flash of light in the form of a killing curse flashed so close to Hermione’s face that, had she not been donning Harry’s short hair, would have likely killed her. She disarmed two death eaters and cast a body bind curse at another, moving her head so Kingsley could send a row of flames directly at them.

She had lowered her wand arm for just a moment before looking to her left, body shutting down. This time, she did let out a high-pitched scream. Just three meters away from her was none other than Lord Voldemort. Through her panic stricken haze, she barely registered that he was _flying_ , broomless, horseless, like he was a streak of wind passing by. His bright red snake-like eyes turned to make contact with hers, and it was as if he saw right through her. His wand was raised, and she closed her eyes tight, waiting to die when there was a sudden flash of bright white light. _Am I in heaven now?_ She thought stupidly, still refusing to open her eyes. When the sounds of battle around her did not cease, she forced herself to look, startled when she found herself looking into Kingsley’s face. Without explanation, he hoisted her up and around him, so that she was now at the front of the Threshal, and he was dueling 3 death eaters head-on. 

She saw the ‘Expelliarmus’ leave the Death Eater’s wand before Kingsley did. She suddenly knew what she had to do. In the span of 5 seconds, she watched in slow motion as he was disarmed, his wand flying backward out of his hand. Sending an Impedimenta jinx at the Death Eaters and effectively knocking them off their brooms, she reached out, further and further at Kingsley’s tumbling wand, grabbing it with her non-wand hand. Unfortunately, she'd miscalculated just how far she was leaning, because before he could grab her, she was tumbling into the night air. 

She didn’t register that she was free-falling until she looked up and there were brooms above her.


	21. Free Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> July 1997

_Damn it, Damn it, DAMN IT!_ Panic flooded her sense as she realized she was helpless. She looked to her hands, realizing that she was holding two wands. The ground was coming up faster and faster, and she knew she couldn’t give up then. How stupid would she be to die this early on in the war? And from falling? No. No she couldn’t die now. Harry still needed her help, Ron still needed—her. She still needed Ron. She felt her long curls growing back from her hair, indicating that the polyjuice was wearing off. 

Feeling more herself, she thought of the first thing she could think of. Pointing her wand to herself, she screamed out “WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!”, watching as she stopped in midair. She couldn’t control where she was going, but she was floating nonetheless, stopping her decline. Looking up, she almost sobbed tears of joy as she saw Kingsley riding down on the Threshal, steering to where she was floating directionless above the trees. When he reached her, he looked just as relieved as she felt. “You’re amazing, you are. Almost lost my wand! Thanks—” She handed his wand back to him, still floating awkwardly next to the Threshal. Grabbing onto her arm and releasing the levitation spell, he pulled her back onto the Threshal. He looked back. “You alright, kid?” She nodded, unable to speak out of shock for what had just happened. 

They soared back into the sky, ears listening for any threats of danger. The only one that came was easily stunned back into the sky by Hermione. Fifteen minutes later, they landed roughly in a field of tall wheat. They seemed to be at some sort of abandoned tool shed. Seeing her look of confusion, Kingsley nodded his head in the direction of the shed. “Old auror outpost. Been abandoned for years. I doubt the ministry even knows it exists.” They trudged their way to the shed, which looked a lot like Mr. Weasley’s tinkering shed at the Burrow. “Great job today, Granger. You’re a natural fighter. And with those quick thinking skills, any department would be lucky to have you.” Hermione smiled in earnest, but shook her head. “Quick thinking isn’t much help when you panic every time a wand’s pointed at you,” she said solemnly. Kingsley chuckled and clapped a hand on her shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, when I was your age, I was a pisspot of fear. Couldn’t even stun a man at the age of 17. Wasn’t until I got into the ministry that I started training like my life depended on it. Kinda does, at this point.” Hermione smiled. This summer was the summer that she was supposed to start planning for her future, but as the days progressed, the odds of a future got slimmer, and she was forced to focus on the present. She acknowledged Kingsley’s attempt to cheer her up. “Uh, Mr—Kingsley—, do you know what our portkey back looks like?” He nodded, pointing to a rusty hanger sitting on the shelf of the shed, amongst other degenerative items. “When does it leave?” she asked, eager to return to the safety of the Burrow. Kingsley checked his pocket watch. “Five minutes on the dot.” As he lowered his arm, Hermione gasped as she noticed a deep gash near his elbow. 

“Kingsley, your arm! Do you have any gauze?” He looked at the gash as if it was the first time he’d noticed it. It most likely was. “Yes, there should be gauze in that first aid kid right there, if it hasn’t disintegrated, at any rate.” Hermione didn’t have time to question why there was a muggle first aid kit in an auror post when they most definitely knew how to heal severe wounds by wand. Opening the kit and digging around till she found some white bandaids, she raised her eyebrows in permission, and he nodded. As she began wrapping the wound securely, Kingsley cleared his throat. “Right. While I have you here, I might as well ask. What are you three planning? And don’t say nothing, I know Albus left something for Harry to do.”

Hermione froze. How was she supposed to lie to one of the most skilled tactical aurors alive? Then again, he already knew there _was_ a mission, why not just stop there? “Er—you’re right, there is a mission, and I’m really sorry, but I can’t tell you what it is.” Kingsley groaned in frustration. “Look, I know you kids want to follow Dumbledore’s instructions and do this yourselves, but Dumbledore is dead, and we are not. You _need_ to let the order know what you three are up to. You don’t know what it’s like out there, and you’ll need all the help you can get.” 

There was an aggressive tone in his voice that was not there before. _Perhaps this is why everyone’s so threatened by him,_ she thought as she quickly finished wrapping his wound. Trying desperately to get the attention off her, she came to a realization.

“Tonks is asking Ron the same thing, isn’t she?” She asked in a deadpan sort of voice. A flash of guilt crossed over Kingsley’s face as he nodded sheepishly. “We assumed it would be easier to ask you to privately, without Harry there.” Annoyance filled Hermione. “So you all assumed that Ron and I would crack under pressure and sell out our best friend, then? Well, you’re wrong, and with all due respect, Sir, nothing you say is going to get me to change my mind.” To strengthen her point, she stuck her chin out, plastering a look of determination on her face. Kingsley took a deep breath, and she grimaced, expecting an outburst of some sort, but he merely sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I expect you won’t say anything then.—”

“I wouldn’t betray Harry like that.” She added bluntly.

“—Right, well in that case, do what you have to do, but stay safe. You-know-who and his followers are a different type of evil, beyond anything you three will have ever seen.” Hermione nodded, relieved to have the conversation over with. Before they could say anything else, however, the hanger began to glow a bright blue, shaking violently. “That’ll be us, then. Hold tight” Kingsley grabbed onto one end of the portkey, and she the other. With a sharp pull at her navel, she was whisked off into darkness, spinning back into light.


	22. Indecency

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> June 2001

"How _dare_ you! Why you insolent, arrogant, foul—"

"Ms. Granger, please calm down, this is a workplace."

"I will _not_ calm down, Robards! With all due respect, my fiancee and I have just been...been...insulted, by this piece of shi—"

"Ms. _Granger_!"

She was referring to none other than Cormac Mclaggen, who, even at 23, was still mooching off of his rich father for job connections. He'd visited her office at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement hoping for an easy job because of their "chemistry", and when she'd refused, he'd made a snide jab at how the only reason why she and Ron had even gotten their jobs at the Ministry was that they were "The poster children for useless sidekicks".

That had promptly led to the current confrontation.

"Look, Ms. Granger, I don't know what Mclaggen said to you, and in all honestly he likely deserves to get a tongue lashing, what with his insubordination, but if you continue to act in this manner we _will_ have to escort you out."

She glared at Cormac, before composing herself and turning back to Robards. "I'm sorry, sir, I don't know what came over me."

He nodded understandingly, and walked out of the room, leaving Hermione and Cormac alone. He had that stupid arrogant smirk on his face, the one he definitely thought made him more appealing. 

It did not. 

She was about to reach for the door when Cormac cleared his throat. 

"Sorry Granger, for my comment. I was just reminded of our Hogwarts days. Thought it would make you feel inclined to help a lad out with his job search."

Hermione huffed, turning to face him. "Well that's your own fault for assuming that, isn't it? Now if you'll kindly avoid wasting even more of my time and please show yourself out? I have a meeting in 10 minutes."

A sly grin crossed his face as he made a few steps in her direction. She instinctively reached for her wand.

"Pipe down, will you? I'm not trying to attack you. A meeting in 10 minutes, ay? What do you say we make the most of that time?"

Exasperation filled Hermione. He was trying to _hit on her?_ Now? After insulting her? He really was an idiot.

"First of all, that's highly inappropriate, and if you don't leave this instant I'm reporting you for workplace insolence. Second, I'm engaged, you know that, though you don't seem like the type to care. Finally, even if I wasn't, I wouldn't risk being caught doing something indecent in my office with _you_."

The lust in his eyes was for a split second replaced with anger. It sent a jolt of fear down Hermione. He was an arse, but he wouldn't physically attack her...would he?

Before she could grab her wand he punched the wall right next to her face, causing her to shriek. He towered over her small frame, and suddenly she found herself staring directly into his beady eyes.

"You know, I don't know where you got around thinking you can have any guy you want, you're not even that good looking. It takes one idiot of a girl to reject someone like me. I thought you were a genius," he spat. Anger filled her at his words. Grabbing her wand from her coat pocket, she opened her mouth to hex the idiot. Before she could, however, the door to her office burst open, and in walked none other than Ron, with a takeout bag in his hands.

He froze at the sight of them. Understandably, because Cormac was basically on top of her, and she had a wand in her hand.

"What the bloody—Hermione?"

She pushed Cormac off of her, effectively hexing him against the other wall. Ron looked between the two of them, before walking over the where Cormac lay on the ground and punching him square in the nose.

"What—the hell—do you—think—you're doing—to my—fiancee?"

"Ron, I've already hexed him!"

Cormac was glaring up at Ron, blood pouring from his nose. "Blimey, you two are mad!"

"Get. Out." Hermione growled through her teeth. Cormac got up shakily, before slinking out the door and down the hall.

"Hermione, are you ok? What did he do? Are you hurt?"

She laughed at his questions, before smacking him on the arm.

"Ron! I had it under control! What do you think Robards is gonna say when he sees Cormac limping out of the Ministry with a bloody nose?"

"He was on top of you! For all I know he could have been—"

"He was just being a creep."

She explained the situation to him, watching as his temper rose with every sentence.

"Blimey, who the hell finds the Ministry of Magic sexy? Furthermore, who tries to seduce a ministry official in her own office, which by the way, I'll beat him up again for pulling that later."

" _No_ , you won't, not unless you want to get fired."

He sighed. "Fair enough. You _are_ ok though, right?"

"Completely, though I suppose my ego is slightly bruised."

She told him about the rude comment Mclaggen had made on her appearance.

"Don't listen to him, love. You're gorgeous, sweet, smart, and unbelievably sexy—"

She giggled. Even at 22 he never failed to make her blush like a schoolgirl. Ron looked around the office. "You know, I suppose the Ministry can be sexy when there's a perfect girl right in front of you..."

She grinned, walking closer to him. "Is that, so, Mr. Weasley."

"Perfectly so, Ms. Granger."

They laughed before Hermione grew serious. "Ron, we can't it's _indecent._ "

"To hell with decency, where was that girl when we did it in the locker room that one time I snuck into Hogwarts to see you when you were still at school?"

"Ron!"

But even she couldn't resist her charming fiancee.


	23. Leave it Behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January 2006

Sometimes she remembers everything.

She'll be at work, working on a case, and suddenly the world goes dark and she starts shaking and can't stop.

Other times she'll be at the Burrow, surrounded by family and friends and it'll happen.

She remembers.

Because it's been almost 8 years since the war, and so much _good_ has happened since. She and Ron got married, and so did Harry and Ginny. They all have high-paying and well-respected jobs, and it's been years since someone's called her a Mudblood to her face. (That's not to say she doesn't get death threats because she's Hermione Granger and some people just don't like how powerful a muggle-born witch can be.)

But still, there's so much good. And a few months ago the best good thing came to be when Rose was born. This little bundle of joy, this light, was living proof of just how far they'd come.

But still, sometimes she remembers.

And she can't shake the feeling that it's not over, and Bellatrix will be right around the corner with a knife, and Harry never came back from the dead, and the war and fighting and violence never fucking ended. 

And she can't take it.

And so she holds Rose close to her and tells her about the _good_ things from before the war. The times when Hogwarts was simply a place where kids like her could be free to express their magic and have fun.

She tells Rose about Uncle Harry, and how she and Dada would have gone to the ends of the earth to do anything for him. And how they still would.

And when she remembers everything, and Ron isn't there to hold _her_ close and tell her that everything is going to be ok, she tells herself.

Because goddamn it, she's Hermione Granger. And she can do it.


	24. Playing with Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October 1991

_You don't play with fire unless you want to get burned._

The first time is the day the three of them became friends.

They walk back to the Common Room, marveling over the fact that a couple of 11-year-olds just took out a Mountain Troll.

She watches the raven-haired boy and red-haired boy laugh gaily, and she smiles to herself. She has friends now. It feels nice.

But something bothers her about the way that Harry was so ready to risk his life for a boy he'd met 2 months ago and a girl who he didn't even like at the time.

There's something about that boy, she thinks. She knows his story. She also knows that he doesn't have too many close friends and somehow she just became one.

She has a feeling that she'll be fighting a lot of Mountain Trolls.


	25. Barbaric

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1994

When she was younger her parents would take her to lacrosse games at the local field.

She supposed it was an attempt to get her a hobby other than reading, but she had appreciated it nonetheless.

And 5-year-old Hermione would sit, watching these bulky players tackle each other, and the first thought that came to her mind was "Wow, this is barbaric."

When she was 11 she faced a Mountain Troll, played in a giant chessboard, and flew on a broomstick out of a dungeon.

When she was 12 she was frozen petrified for 2 months by a bloodthirsty giant snake simply because she was a muggle-born.

When she was 13 she faced a literal _Werewolf_ , and time-traveled to save a notorious mass murderer.

Maybe lacrosse wasn't so bad?

As she watches Harry compete in the Triwizard Tournament, she wonders how on earth her parents ever let her go to Hogwarts.


	26. Family is Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> June 1998

She hopes that he knows how much she loves him.

And how she'd do anything for him.

And sometimes, in her dreams, she realizes that he's been there all along.

And she hates herself for waiting so long.

Because he waited so long.

They waited so long for the inevitable.

And she likes to think that if they weren't best friends with the most famous boy in the Wizarding World, they'd have gotten together sooner.

But she knows they wouldn't have.

She made friends with Harry first, then Ron.

So, in a way, she owes it all to Harry.

She hopes that he knows how much she loves him.

As a friend, sure, but it's so much more than that.

She and Ron may be dating, but Harry's like her brother.

And family is forever.


	27. Birthday Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May 2008

"I hate you, Ron."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, yes I do. So please get the hell out of the room."

"No."

"Ron I swear to Merlin I will hex your bollocks off if you don't—"

"Just hear me out. I didn't mean to—"

"Why _her_? It could have been anyone else."

"I didn't mean to, ok? You're making such a huge deal about this!"

"Oh, _I'm_ the idiot?"

"I never said that."

"How-how could you?"

"Look, I didn't mean to buy the cake from Lavender, ok? Her family owns one of the best bakeries in town, and Rose loves Red Velvet!"

"I don't think I'm being unreasonable here—"

"I dated her 12 bloody years ago, Hermione! 12 years! I married you 6 years ago, and you're pregnant with our 2nd, might I mention _2nd_ , child!"

"You love her more than me."

"Bloody—ok love, you obviously forgot to take your pregnancy potions. Your hormones are out of whack."

"Don't you dare blame this on my hormones—why are you laughing?"

"Because you're adorable."

"Really?"

"Of course. Now can we stop fighting about cake and go wish our daughter a happy birthday?"

"Fine."


	28. 19 Years Old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> September 1998

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY HERMIONE!"

Hermione groaned, burying her face in her pillow. "What time is it?"

"6 in the morning." 

"Blimey, the sun hasn't even come up yet!"

"Damn it, Hermione would you just let us wish you on your birthday?"

"Oh, all right."

She took the pillow off her face, and almost let out a startled cry when she saw Dean and Ginny's faces hovering directly above her bedframe.

"Oh! Oh, hi Dean. How'd you get into the Girl's dorm?"

He grinned. "They forgot to put the charm back on after the battle. It's definitely beneficial for...other purposes."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I can't believe I ever dated you."

Dean looked hurt. "Well, I'm sorry I'm not as great as the literal Chosen One!"

Ginny smirked and looked at Hermione. Hermione giggled. "He's just upset that Seamus met that girl at Gringotts."

"I AM NOT!"

"Suit yourself, Dean. Anyway, did you bring a cake?" 

Ginny smiled, reaching to the table and picking up a square-looking cake. Hermione gasped as she saw what it was.

"Oh, Ginny, it's beautiful!"

The cake was a spitting image of her favorite book, _Hogwarts, A History._

"We got it specially made in the kitchens! Don't worry, the House Elves insisted they wanted to do it for you."

"Well, I love it."

"That's not all. Go ahead and tap it with your wand!"

Hermione looked between Ginny and Dean. "This better not be some prank, because it's way too early in the morning for that."

"It's not, I swear."

Hermione cautiously picked up her wand, slowly tapping the cover of the cake book.

It opened in half with a loud snap, and inside there was a note clearly written in frosting.

"Dearest Mione,

Happy Birthday! You don't know how glad I am that we get to have birthdays after the war. 

I'm so sorry I couldn't get out of Auror training to see you. I miss you so bloody much.

P.S. I lied. I did get out of Auror training.

Love, Ron"

She snapped her head up. Sure enough, there was her boyfriend, standing in the doorway and holding a large bouquet of flowers.

Merlin, she loved him.


	29. Possible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May 1998

"Ron, would you have liked me if we weren't both Harry's best friends?"

"Probably not."

"Oh."

"I would have made an even bigger fool of myself and made you hate me."

"I could never hate you."

"I hated you. For about 20 seconds."

"Oh."

"You came by our train cabin with your face all snobby and for a split second, I thought you were gonna make fun of how poor I was. I decided that regardless of how interesting you looked I would hate you to spare myself the embarrassment."

"And did I change your mind?"

"In every way possible."


	30. Blue

Her favorite color is blue.

It's the color of her favorite flower.

The color of the sky.

The color of sadness, but simultaneously the color of a warm bath.

Blue is the color of tears, raindrops. Ocean.

It's the color of his eyes.


	31. Orange

His favorite color is orange.

It has nothing to do with his hair.

Orange is the color of his favorite sweets.

It's the color of a certain cat.

It's the color of family, of warmth.

Orange is the color that her eyes become in the sun.

Warm like honey.


	32. Lonesone

She sacrifices so much for them. She really does.

And sometimes it feels as though that's the only reason they keep her around.

Because one moment she's the smartest woman they know, and the next they're off to go hang out without her.

And she reckons that people assume she's busy reading and studying and reading and reading and—

But most of the time, she isn't.

Not nearly as often as they think she is.


	33. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> March 1998

He doesn't think he's ever seen her so _broken_.

He panics as he yells at Bill to help her, do _anything_.

Anything to keep her alive.

Because he saw the way Greyback was looking at her, as though she was some piece of meat. 

He saw how mad Bellatrix was when she saw the sword.

He knows how much they despise muggle-borns.

He heard her excruciating screams of pains as she was hit with the cruciatus _over and over and_

over again.

He'd waited too long to tell her just how he felt.


	34. The Ghoul in Pajamas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summer 1997

"Ron, darling, are you going somewhere?"

"No Mum, no I'm not."

"Then why are you packing clothes?"

Damn it, that woman. He couldn't get anything past her.

"I promise I'm not going anywhere, Mum."

He wishes he wasn't lying. He wishes he could stay at home and sleep until it's all over. Until Voldemort is dead.

But then he thinks of Harry and Hermione. And how neither of them has a choice in this war.

And, not for the first time, he feels guilty of his blood status.

And in the rare moments when he wonders if it will all be worth it, he thinks of them.

And how he would do anything for his best friends.

For Harry,

and for _her._


End file.
